characters: ushijima wakatoshi x gn!reader
notes: for my pretty girl solly, happy birthday. i love u more than anything <3
toothbrushes are never something you saw to have much importance.
they’re a daily item, sure. and they help to maintain good hygiene, of course. but other than that they simply sit in their little holder in the bathroom, only used twice a day for a few minutes each. they don’t hold much value.
not that you’ve ever thought about, anyway.
“did you sleep good, tosh?” you ask as you lean into your boyfriend’s side, squeezing out a bit of toothpaste onto your brush.
ushijima hums and you can feel the vibration of it from where you’re pressed against him. his mouth is already full of foam, and you learned a while ago that he probably scrubs his teeth a little too violently as he gets them clean.
“yes, your bed is very comfortable,” he answers, though it’s muffled a bit as he tries to keep the suds within his mouth. “did you?”
“mhm,” you nod, starting your own brushing as you look up to him, grinning around the plastic between your lips. “i always sleep better when you’re here. you’re very comfortable.”
wakatoshi smiles. foam slips down the corners of his lips. you laugh as he quickly leans over the sink to spit. he looks at your reflection in the mirror, eyes crinkled and hand holding your toothbrush away so you don’t choke on it.
and then he’s turning, clasping his hand on the back of your neck to pull you to him, and kissing you.
you squeal as minty suds slip past your own lips at his action, a mess being made of your chin and dripping down onto your (read, your boyfriend’s) night shirt. it effectively makes a wet patch form on the front of it, and it’s cold against your skin.
as soon as he pulls back you’re leaning over the sink and copying his earlier action, grabbing a cloth and wetting it to wipe at your chin before it all dries and gets sticky.
“toshi,” you whine, looking down to try to swipe at the toothpaste tinted spot on your shirt in a weak attempt to clean it. “why’d you do that?”
he stares at you for a moment, face neutral of any tell one might hope for, before he turns back to the sink and twists on the faucet. running his toothbrush under it, he shrugs his shoulders.
“i love you,” he states, as if it’s an obvious fact. and after a little over a year together, maybe it should be. “and you looked pretty, and your lips are soft. i wanted a kiss.”
and yeah, you want to yell at your boyfriend for how oblivious he is for not understanding how he can’t just spout out those words because it makes your tummy warm and your cheeks hot and your stomach flutter. but then again, it just makes you fall in love with him all over.
“you could’ve just waited until i didn’t have a mouthful of foam,” you mumble under your breath, holding your toothbrush under the stream of water along with his.
“i wanted to kiss you then. there was no reason to wait.”
“there was toothpaste bubbles in my mouth!”
“they’re minty. you tasted good.”
“wakatoshi,” you groan as he takes your toothbrush from your hand, using the freeing to place your palms over your face. “you can’t just say things like that!”
“would you rather me lie?”
you peek through your fingers at your stupidly handsome, irritatingly charming boyfriend, who has the fucking audacity to pout at you. and the worst part is you don’t even think he’s aware that he’s doing it.
“i love you,” he says again as he places both of your toothbrushes into the holder next to the soap. “it’s not my fault i want to kiss you. satori said to blame my hormones.”
“you can’t keep using the excuse tendou gave you as a teenager,” you reason, dropping your hands in defeat. “your hormones aren’t raging anymore.”
wakatoshi tilts his head at you, and if you squint you’re sure you can imagine puppy ears sticking out of the sides of his head.
“oh.” he grunts, crinkles his brows, then nods to himself as he turns on his heel to walk out of the bathroom. “then it must be because i lo—“
“okay i get it! you can stop saying it now!” you shout after him, because honestly if your cheeks heat up anymore you think they might just burst into flames.
as you’re left in the bathroom by yourself, tending to the mess on the front of your shirt that you still try to scrub off just a little better, the realization of something hits you. you sit the rag on the counter of the sink and step out of the bathroom.
“baby,” you call to where toshi is standing at the edge of your bed, putting his clothes back into the duffel he brought over. he hums in acknowledgment. “you left your toothbrush in my holder.”
he raises his head to look over at you, pausing for just a minute in his packing, before he continues with his task.
“yes,” he affirms, throwing in a half-assed folded shirt. “i would like to stay here more. so if it’s okay, i’d like to leave my toothbrush.”
you don’t understand why you suddenly feel like crying or why your feet swiftly carry you over to your boyfriend or why you fling yourself into his arms and kiss him harder than you think you ever have before. but it just feels good and it just feels right. and as you pull away, ushijima’s hands warm on your waist, you don’t think you’ve ever smiled wider.
“that’s more than okay,” you beam, tugging him as close as possible (as if you could get any closer). “i love you so much, tosh.”
“i love you,” he mimics, for the fourth time this morning, as his lips skim against yours. “just please do not confuse my toothbrush for yours.”
and you laugh, and you kiss him, and then you accidentally make him late for practice and his coach yells at him for being irresponsible. but neither of you really mind. because suddenly, toothbrushes mean just a little bit more than a way to keep up with hygiene.
from then on, every time you see the green brush sitting in the holder on your bathroom sink, you’re reminded of who it belongs to.
and you’re reminded of who your heart belongs to, also.
